


To Be So Lonely

by shiv_roy



Category: DCU
Genre: M/M, minor infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:02:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27587861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiv_roy/pseuds/shiv_roy
Summary: Past eighty and tired, when he gets the news of Clark's death, Bruce recalls three moments he'd shared with Clark that he will never forget.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 14
Kudos: 43





	To Be So Lonely

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure, I remember reading a drarry fic that was a little like this that destroyed me years ago and I couldn't stop thinking about it for a few days and it made me so sad because it ended ambiguously. This fic has a happy ending for that reason. Or happy-ish at least. Not betad.

_don't blame me for falling;_  
_i was just a little boy_  
_(-to be so lonely, harry styles)_

His bones creak as he sits up. They're weak and tired and more so than average because of the strain he's put on them for years, the breaks and fractures they've suffered through. He wonders idly about heading down to the cave. He hasn't been down there in the past four years now. Today feels like a good day.

His body isn't as tolerant of his wishes as it was in his youth. He has to go down to the kitchen, make himself toast. Make coffee. Down his meds with the bitter stuff. He passes all the big halls and drawing rooms and parlors, remembers his mother's high laugh, his father's crinkled smile as they entertained guests and hosted parties for what seemed was half of Gotham. The manor, full and lightened up.

There was a time in his life that Bruce felt the loss of their deaths leave. Days he would smile. There weren't as many parties as before, but the manor was full, still. Alight, with children's laughter. He remembers the day Damian left. At that point, he was the last one staying at the manor. The pain had returned, rebounded and amplified now with the loss of his children, with the loss of the man who had raised him after his parents.

Terry had helped. Somewhat. But he doesn't come up now, and Bruce doesn't go down. Some petty part of him is indignant at it, but Terry is capable and Bruce is tired, so very tired. He's fit enough not to need a nurse. He barely talks to anyone. Barbara sends him articles, whenever anyone from the family is involved. Someone stops a gang war. Someone stops a cult. Someone upends a full human trafficking ring. Bruce reads it all with some level of pride. This is his legacy.

But there's also sadness. He can't even cut out the damn things, because none of them are on paper and Bruce is too tired to order the printed things. The manor is so big, it would be a chore to even go to the front door to recieve the paper.

Half the rooms are closed. The grandeur collects dust. Alfred would be appalled at him. And then, he hasn't put the manor in his will for someone to inherit at all. It will be converted into an orphanage when he's dead.

Part of him feels like he's betraying his children. But they have full access to the cave and it has more than one entrance. Even Terry only drops in to see if everything's functional. It will stay locked, probably forever. Unless his children use it. Which he suspects they won't.

Bruce contemplates how long he can put off his self inflicted visit to the cave.

He usually spends his days in the garden. There's a gazebo big enough that the sun and rain don't bother him, and he reads. Anything he can find. It's been years since he started on the manor's library, and at least he can die knowing it was put to good use.

He rises from the breakfast table and goes down. There's an update sitting on top of the Justice League secure communication channel when he checks in. Bruce has to take a seat when he reads it once. Then twice. His hands shake, for the first time in five decades.

Clark Kent is dead.

There's a small obituary below, by Diana. Diana, who looks like she's aged ten years along the span of sixty.

It's just respect. There aren't worries about the mantle. Clark had left the red and blue to his son and he'd retired shortly after Bruce himself had. Then after a few years, when Lois died he moved back to the Kent farm. He died in his sleep. Jon had heard his heartbeat stop in the middle of the night. Bruce glares at the screen, like a child. He hasn't seen Clark in years. He feels angry. Angry at himself. Angry at Clark. Angry that their last meeting was so insignificant he can't even remember what they'd talked about, exactly how long ago it was. He feels like he's missed out on something. Like he's only lived half his life.

There's three meetings with Clark that he remembers starkly.

The first is in the early days of the League, when Dick was still a pink cheeked boy. They were sitting on a rooftop, almost crouched, in a stake out. Clark was looking up at the stars.

"They're beautiful," he'd said.

"You probably don't see them in Metropolis." Bruce had taken a dig to see how Clark would take it. They were still a pretty new team.

"Yes," Clark had agreed almost immediately. "They're way better from back home." Bruce forgot he was raised on a farm sometimes. "Come on, look at them."

"We're on a stake out."

"Been at it for hours. The tip was probably faulty."

Bruce bristled. The tip had come from Gordon. He did turn up, because his neck was getting tired. And he figured Clark had an ear on everything. He looked up, and Clark was still looking at the sky like it was the best thing he'd seen. He turned his head when he saw Bruce looking.

"You should smile more," he had said, and Bruce had remembered thinking that there would be no forgetting the look on Clark's face, the smile on his lips, the pink in his cheeks, the blue of his eyes.

Bruce had been right.

The second time is at a Wayne Gala.

Every time he remembers his ridiculous Wayne act, it feels more and more stupid. He'd had a simpering smile on his face as he dragged Clark away to his private office by the arm.

"The kids are up to something," he'd said grimly, the moment they're out of public eye.

"Hello to you too," Clark had replied, amused. Then after a pause. "They're in the cave. Tried to get out but couldn't get past the locking system. They're on the computer now."

Bruce clenched his jaw. There was confidential information on the computer.

"Why don't we have a nightcap? I'm sure the party can do without you for tonight," Clark said, moving to the bar and taking hold of the good scotch. Bruce had sighed and given in and they'd finished almost half the bottle by themselves and Bruce was pleasantly drunk and laughing as they recalled anecdotes. Bruce hadn't relaxed like that in months.

At one point, Bruce got up to get another bottle, but Clark stood too, and stopped him. Bruce still remembers the ghost of his fingers on his wrist. Bruce had done the only thing that seemed logical at the time: he'd kissed Clark. And Clark, who probably wasn't even drunk, had kissed back, and they'd moved back until Bruce was pressed against the desk and Clark's hands were on either side of his hips on the edge of it as Clark's tongue pushed and pushed and pushed into his mouth. He remembers that pleasant pressure of Clark, and smiling into his kiss and his fingers running around the base of Clark's curls.

Clark had separated them then, and smiled. Said goodnight, like they hadn't just shared the most unforgettable kiss of Bruce's life. They hadn't mentioned it ever again, but the dents Clark's nails had left on the edge of the desk are still there, today.

The third time is three years before they stepped down.

They were standing on one of the balconies of the Hall of Justice. It was pretty deserted, and the sun was setting, a warm golden glow washing all over the place.

"I'm stepping down," Clark had said. Bruce stiffened. There was no valid reason or need for it, but he couldn't process the thought of Clark leaving, and had to reach out for the railing. "Jon put on my old suit the other day and I knew, just like that."

Bruce's grip on the railing had tightened. "You're leaving." He was steeling himself up. Damian had left him, like the rest of his kids and now Clark was leaving too. Bruce just didn't understand why he felt so strongly. He had Selina. He had Helena. He wasn't alone. But it felt like someone was ripping out what had seemed like an unmovable constant in his life. It wasn't like they saw each other outside of League meetings. But Clark was there. Clark had always been there.

"Don't leave," Bruce said.

Clark looked amused in a tired sort of way. "I'm not going anywhere."

Bruce had glared, like a child. "Don't leave."

"Bruce," is all Clark had said. "I can't." The amusement is gone and there's only tiredness, and Bruce had nodded, a little too jerkily for someone his age.

"Will you wait for me?" Bruce begged. "Will you wait till I step down?" He wasn't sure why. He had Selina. Loved her. And Clark wasn't anything less than devoted to Lois. But they'd still kissed in his study that day, and there still hasn't been a time Bruce has looked at the stars but not thought of Clark.

Clark had laughed, like it was the easiest thing in the world. There were tears in his eyes.

"Of course," he had said.

Bruce has to wait for three years.

He makes himself tea as usual, meaning to head out to the garden to read. When he opens the door, soft, morning sunlight streams right through the door, even though the direction's all wrong. Clark stands right there, aged not a day over the first time he'd seen him. Bruce smiles and practically feels the years leave his body.

"You waited," Bruce says. Clark laughs like he had that day in the sun.

"Of course," he says, and pulls Bruce out into the garden.

**Fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> I usually fixate on Bruce's relationships with his kids a lot, but justify focusing on him and Clark because while Bruce had his differences with his kids, they've had their reconciliations and have moved on to their own better lives. 
> 
> leave a comment if you liked this.


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